quietmounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

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WHEN day (¿) 39
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[The sun doesn't so much as rise as flick on with the sudden, glaring brightness of noon. Whatever time keeping device you have on you says its about 8:14am when this happens.

The power's back, but the time on your timekeeping device never really make sense with the position of the sun as it moves across the sky.]

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...

Just the usual.

[flops onto the couch]

[there's a moment's hesitation before he goes to sit down next to Lassie, petting at his head]

...

[he allows this, just turning his head to glance like ???]

[wow don't put him on the spot like that?]

—you looked like you needed it, is all.

...

What I need is a good, hard, fuck.

[he laughs, surprised]

Is that an invitation?

[he shrugs.]

Depends on if you're up for it.

Well, that depends on if you're thirsty for feeling my cock pounding you until you can't think straight.

[he leans in, expression and voice even]

I was thinking the other way around.

[oh well McCree's red now, licking his lips]

—Think I'd be more than happy to oblige you there.

Thought you might.

[sliding his hand over McCree's thigh, squeezing gently]

[he grins, closing his hand over Lassie's and guiding it up]

Why don't you tell me how you want me, detective?

[is that an invitation to grope? because he will, enthusiastically]

Well, it'd be a nice change to hear you beg. Maybe I'll just play with you for a while. Make you wait.

[yes it was, McCree lets out a pleased sound, rolling into the pressure of Lassie's hand]

You wanna see how long I can last? Get me flushed and pleading for you to let me go?

[he leans in, kissing McCree nice and light, grinning]

Yeah I do.

[he grins, kissing back]

Then, I'm at your mercy.

[keeping his mouth close, his hand still groping happily]

Strip. Don't bore me.

[he groans, appreciating that attention]

You're gonna need to let me go first, detective.

[he gives McCree's lips a parting lip, smiling as he pulls away, expectant]

Now let's see here...

[he dutifully pulls back, shifting to sit up on his knees, making a show of pulling the buttons of his shirt open one by one]

[Lassie continues to grin, reaching out and tracing his fingertips through McCree's chest-hair]

That's the stuff.

You like what you see, detective?

[he leans into the touch, indulgent, pulling his shirt open and out of his pants nice and slowly]

Could be convinced.

[he leans in, smoothing his palms over McCree's belly, resting over his hips]

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